


Fair Trade

by fififolle



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Figging, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fuck buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:38:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/pseuds/fififolle
Summary: Avon and Tarrant indulge in a little root-related play. PWP.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosied/gifts).



> I wrote this for rosied's fandom_stocking. P.S. My first ever Blake's 7 fic.

Tarrant looked around the marketplace vigilantly. You never know when someone might be out to kill you.  
  
Beside him, Avon picked up a small lump of vegetable matter from a stall, turned it over in his hand, then brought it to his nose and sniffed it. “Interesting.”  
  
Vila shoved by with an armful of leafy matter. “Put it back, we don't need it. It's Fulerian ginger – like regular ginger but leaves a bitter aftertaste.”  
  
Avon looked at Tarrant and raised an eyebrow.  
  
Tarrant grinned at him. “I'm game if you are.”  
  
~  
  
Back on the Liberator, Tarrant waited impatiently in his quarters. Maybe Avon had changed his mind. After all, the last time they'd fucked, Tarrant had bitten Avon a little too hard, and the other man had taken exception, flouncing out in a huff of hasty black leather. He'd thought they were over that, though. Avon was touchy, yes, but he didn't hold a grudge against Tarrant for long. Only as much as usual, anyway.  
  
The door slid open and finally Avon was there, a predatory grin on his face. “Sorry I'm late, had to prise this away from Cally, she was about to cook it.”  
  
Tarrant wiggled his arse at Avon. “Don't keep me waiting any longer then.”  
  
Avon sat down on the bed and slapped Tarrant's buttock. “Oh, I like it when you're ready for me.”  
  
“Does it make you feel superior?” Tarrant asked, enjoying the burn of the slap.  
  
“No. Because I am superior,” Avon replied, “but it does make me feel horny.”  
  
Tarrant laughed, and reached out to try and unzip some of Avon's clothing. By the gods, Avon's attitude could annoy him, but the man was fantastic in bed. “I want you naked as well.”  
  
Avon, who had started to peel the not-ginger with a small, sharp knife, leaned closer to give Tarrant better access. “It would be easier if you weren't lying there like a whore. Sit up and strip me.”  
  
Tarrant groaned, his cock jumping at the command. He did as he was told, too excited to argue. He managed to get Avon's jacket off without either of them cutting themselves. “Will you fuck me as well?”  
  
Avon smirked, “Damn right I will. I haven't decided how long to leave this inside you yet. We'll see how long it takes you to beg.”  
  
Tarrant wasn't sure it would be long, he was already desperate. He pulled Avon's boots off. “As long as it isn't poisonous. I hope Vila was right about it.”  
  
“It was for sale in the market, wasn't it?” Avon retorted, letting his trousers be stripped from him, leaving him naked, cock hard and leaking. Fuck, Tarrant always wanted him.  
  
“I suppose so,” he said absently, lying back and spreading his legs. “Go on then.”  
  
Avon's eyes travelled over his long limbs, and Tarrant stroked his cock lazily, enjoying the attention. There was this moment, right before the action, where neither of them wanted to touch each other. Not just yet.  
  
Avon finally licked his lips, and brought the peeled not-ginger to Tarrant's thigh. He slid his hands upwards, and Tarrant let his head drop back.  
  
“Fuck,” he murmured, as Avon manoeuvred his legs further apart. “Please.”  
  
Avon chuckled. “Begging already? You are a little slut.”  
  
Tarrant didn't care. He bit his lip. If he asked again before Avon got the not-ginger inside him, he might not do it at all, just out of spite. Bastard.  
  
Avon knelt up beside him, pulling his thighs on top of his. He played with Tarrant's hole for a while, laughing softly whenever Tarrant gasped or moaned. Finally, fucking _finally_ , he pushed the piece of not-ginger inside Tarrant, and then moved his attention to Tarrant's cock.  
  
“Avon!” Tarrant gasped, jerking his head up as Avon stroked him cock firmly. “Gods, that feels good.”  
  
Avon met his gaze. “You look good,” he admitted. It was one of the few compliments Avon ever gave him, and always like this, when they were naked, and alone.  
  
Tarrant smiled. He knew he was a pretty whore for Avon. He didn't mind. “I can feel it now. It's burning.”  
  
Avon crawled over him, and pulled his head in for a searing kiss, their cocks brushing together. Tarrant kissed back hungrily, bucking his hips up. Avon responded with a growl, forcing him back down, and Tarrant felt completely owned.  
  
The not-ginger in his arse began to make itself known in a rather more painful way, and he began to beg again. “Avon, please, fuck me, I can feel it, I need you...”  
  
Avon, nibbling at his neck, was laughing at him. “My pretty boy,” he murmured. “This is going to be so good.”  
  
“It might not last very long,” gasped Tarrant, and they both laughed.  
  
Avon reached down and pulled the piece of not-ginger out, making Tarrant's eyes roll back.  
  
“Gods,” he gasped. “Fuck. Yes, touch me again.”  
  
Avon was panting now, pushing at Tarrant somehow, putting him where he wanted, but Tarrant was so blissed out already he could hardly care. Then he felt Avon's thick cock breach him, and the hot burn with the slide of Avon's big cock inside him had him crying out in pleasure.  
  
“Why don't you be a little louder,” Avon murmured, “I don't think everyone on board heard you.” Then he thrust, deep, hard, once, twice, three times.  
  
Tarrant had never felt anything like it. The hot sensation in his arse from the not-ginger was fucking incredible, and Avon's mastery of his body on top was almost too much. He could feel himself on the edge, so fucking close.  
  
“Oh, Del,” Avon whispered, and rolled his hips, driving his cock deeper and then Tarrant felt him stiffen, come inside him, and Tarrant lost himself in his own release.  
  
When he came back to himself, Avon was cleaning them up, a pleased smirk on his dangerous lips.  
  
Tarrant pillowed his head on his arm and watched him. “Thank you,” he said.  
  
Avon glanced at him. “I don't know why I bother,” he said smoothly. “I end up doing all the work.”  
  
Tarrant just smiled. After all, it was true.  
  
~


End file.
